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Chapter 64 - Rests And End Of Staycation.

The days that followed were a blur of enforced rest and unexpected luxury, a stark contrast to the relentless pace of their mission. For Riven, the Imperial Palace became less a grand monument and more an impossibly uncomfortable cage. He spent his days in Vaelorian's quarters, waking up, eating, sleeping and doing other things.

The Card of Wishes, that black rectangle, remained untouched on the bedside table. Riven would pick it up, turning it over in his hand, feeling its cool, smooth texture.

"A wish," he thought, his gaze drifting over Vaelorian, who was usually absorbed in the duties of the Crown Prince. "I could ask him for anything and he would do it. What should I ask for? World peace? A lifetime supply of good alcohol? A guarantee that he won't make me train anymore? Which is my truest desire? Maybe I should just ask for a pony. That would certainly surprise him."

He knew, deep down, that the card was a symbol of trust and commitment, Vaelorian's way of demonstrating his complete sincerity. It wasn't about the gift itself; it was about the immense power he was ceding to Riven. And that pressure, the weight of being able to ask for anything, kept him from acting rashly. He needed the right context, the right moment.

Their routine settled into a pattern. They shared multi-course meals—a variety of dishes Riven could barely pronounce—in Vaelorian's own dining area. Riven tried to teach Vaelorian a simple card game he knew from his old life, but the Prince's mind was too strategic, his ability to analyze probabilities too sharp. He won every time.

"It's not fun if you calculate every outcome, babe," Riven complained, tossing the deck onto the table. "You have to let the element of surprise take over!"

Vaelorian simply smiled, reaching across the table to smooth the ruffled hair on Riven's head. "My apologies, my love. Perhaps I should try to be less… competent?"

"Just try to lose once," Riven retorted, but the frustration was feigned. He loved seeing Vaelorian relaxed, stripped of the serious Princely demeanour. It's always nice to see him being just a...guy.

Afternoons were often spent in the sprawling imperial library. Vaelorian would study military intelligence, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Riven, would curl up nearby. He'd discovered the palace's vast collection of wines, ancient fiction—tales of legendary heroes and mythical beasts that felt strangely familiar now that he'd encountered people with gifts.

Damn, he's even of them.

Riven eventually ventured out, finding his way to the quarters he was meant to share with Barron. He found his friend in the common area, chatting with two junior guards and boasting about their mission's success.

Barron, now back in his natural, human form, was a whirlwind of energy, thriving in the palace environment. He had even gotten a fancy, embroidered waistcoat, which he wore with an air of immense self-importance.

"And then, I said to Riven, 'We are not leaving without the evidence, even if the entire factory collapses!' Very dramatic, you know?" Barron declared, puffing out his chest.

Riven leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and smirking. "I'm pretty sure you said, 'I'm going to find somewhere safe to hide until Vaelorian gets here. This is not how I die, you hear me?' with a bunch of other things."

Barron spun around, his eyes widening. "Riven! You're here! A lot of things happened during our mission, you can't expect me to remember everything. Also, a little exaggeration is a tool of storytelling, not the actual thing! Come on, tell them about our magnificent strategies!"

Riven laughed, shaking his head. He was genuinely glad to see Barron so happy, so free. "He's like a kid in a candy shop," Riven thought. "Finally getting the recognition and the comfort he deserves."

Later that day, they met up with Sir Eryndor, who had returned from a brief, emotional visit with his family in the outer city. The knight looked five years younger, the lines of stress around his eyes noticeably softened.

"My wife is convinced I've become too soft," Eryndor chuckled, polishing his dress sword. "Said the Prince's influence is making me less…intimidating."

"The Prince's influence is a formidable thing, it can change anyone" Riven agreed, exchanging a mischievous glance with Barron.

Eryndor's gaze settled on Riven, a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes. "It is good to see you up and about, Lord Riven. Truly. And I'm glad everything is behind us now. We'll be going back to the camp soon."

The few days they were given to rest were quickly drawing to a close. As the week ended, Vaelorian's focus shifted back to the camp. Maps were spread across the desk, and communications were frequent.

That final evening, as Riven was packing the new clothes he'd gotten after his mission, Vaelorian entered the room, his expression thoughtful. He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the black card.

"Riven," he said, his voice quiet. "We leave for the camp in the morning."

Riven nodded. "I figured. Barron's already pacing. Said he misses the 'thrill of practicing' I just think he misses everyone."

"And you?" Vaelorian asked, his eyes holding Riven's steady. "You haven't used the card."

Riven took a deep breath, walking over to sit beside him. He looked at the card, then at the man who had given it to him.

I could use it right now, Riven thought, the realization hitting him with sudden force. I could ask him not to leave my side when we're back in camp. I could ask him to define...everything. To tell me what this is. What we are.

But he didn't. He smiled, a genuine, soft smile that reached his eyes. "I've thought about it a lot." Riven admitted. "And I realized something. The biggest wish I had—to be safe throughout my first mission, to succeed, to come back to you—that's already come true. We saved them and brought their captors to justice. We made that happen. That's more than any wish card can grant."

He reached out and closed Vaelorian's fingers gently around the black card.

"Keep it safe for me, okay?" Riven murmured. "I'll know what to ask when the time is right, but right now, I don't need a wish. I just need to be with you. And I am."

Vaelorian looked stunned for a moment, then he gently pulled Riven closer, holding him in a silent embrace that needed no wish cards to grant.

"Every part of me belongs to you, you know that right?" Vaelorian whispered into his hair.

Riven's jaw tightened, and he buried his face in the space between Vaelorian's neck and shoulder. He didn't speak for a long moment, only nodding slightly. When he finally did, his voice was thick with emotion.

"I know," he whispered, to Riven this means, I don't ever want to believe this could all be taken away.

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